You still following me?”

“What do mean by side effects?”

A scuffle outside caused Henry to lean across the table, only to be pushed back by Gabriel so that he remained concealed inside the cafe.

“I mean they received minor additional abilities beyond their combined alternate powers, like the Grol gained increased senses, but they ain't got no physical magus in them to cause it. Bigger problem was they developed personality traits that, in some, could cause quite big issues. We call them hybrids or as they used to be branded, daemons,” Gabriel said.

“What do you mean by-” Henry said, before Gabriel interrupted him again.

“Cutting straight to what you are. At some point, they found a group of individuals that, while being alternates, didn't quite fit into any of the ten categories I've described so far. They had some additional talents of their own that set them apart and were, according to some documentation, part of a cult thing... let's not dwell on that. They called them Inks.”

“Inks?”

“You lot can change your power between the five, no big shakes as it is one of the five charms available to all alternates, but you also get to change your charms, or more accurately, switch them at will. You can change powers and charms to suit a situation, which includes your second sight thing and you have a level three genetic memory, which means you can be trained up quickly. Anyway, Inks have found themselves maintaining some kind of order in the alternate world, as well as protecting alternates from human oppression. Generally put, Inks have their work cut out.”

“Why are they called Inks?”

“Seriously, that is your question after what I just told you? And you mean, why are you called an Ink? Some say Inks see the normal five alternate abilities a bit like coloured ink covering the alternate's body. I always went with the fact all Inks ended up working for the Inquisition.”

“The Inquisition, as in the witch hunts?”

“Yeah, of sorts. Anyway, time we drugged you up again.”

Before Henry could question him, Gabriel sunk a needle into his arm, a familiar tingling sensation setting in.

“How many people do you think died before? In that explosion?”

“Lots. Look Henry, you can't get hung up on that. I know in the over-city you get all upset when someone dies, but the life of an alternate isn't so secure. We are in the middle of a civil war, Deliverance versus the Inquisition. They want to remove human control from of this world, let the 'superior race' take over. Your role will be vital to stopping that happening, and soon you will be stopping events like tonight from happening altogether.”

“But if it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have died.”

“No, they wouldn't have. You have to live with that. Bury it or let it out, I don't give a damn, just get over it already. A group of people you didn't know died. Do you get all upset at the mass killings that go on all the time across the world, those fighting in wars or dying of poverty? No? Well grow a pair and get some perspective. Take some solace in the fact you aren't likely to survive the night, and even if you do, you'll probably be dead within-”

The sound of people shouting outside broke their conversation, followed by gunfire, shots echoing around the small cafe.

“Time we left,” Gabriel said.

Putting a ten pound note on the table and giving a cheap smile to the waitress, Gabriel took Henry's elbow again and led him to the back of the cafe. Passing through a draped curtain which acted as a door onto a side alleyway, the pair meandered their way around strewn rubbish, finding a path to the street.

“You idiot Gabriel, bringing the little squid here,” a voice said from behind them as they reached the squares again.

There was the unmistakable click of a gun close to Henry's ear, he didn't need to turn around to know where it was aiming.

“Bugger,” Gabriel said.

No witty remarks, no obnoxious comments. Of course the blooming cockney would get him murdered, slicked back hair and Del Boy manner hadn't inspired the greatest confidence from the start.